


Gracious Goes the Ghost of You

by menel



Category: Astonishing X-Men, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Treme X-Men
Genre: Cowboy Hats, Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really loved the head canons that Scottxlogan compiled recently. This fic is a response to the head canon that states, “Wolverine likes to wear his cowboy hat on the days he plans on bottoming for Scott.” Unfortunately, the fic isn’t as straightforward as that so it’s probably not what the original poster had in mind. Apologies for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gracious Goes the Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

> This story is vaguely set post- _Schism_ but pre- _AvX_. I’ve also conveniently left out some details from the _Astonishing X-Men Exalted_ arc and the _X-Treme X-Men_ intro. Forgive the liberties. It was just easier this way.
> 
> Originally posted on Tumblr on June 26, 2014.

Scott heard the angry voices down the hall before they ever reached the conference room – Emma yelling (which was rare enough) and . . . was that Logan? _It couldn’t be_ , Scott thought, rising from his seat. Logan was on the other side of the country, unless an emergency of some sort had brought him to Utopia. Scott supposed it wasn’t that far-fetched. When were the X-Men not facing an emergency? 

Before he reached the entrance, the double-doors of the conference room burst open and Logan stormed inside followed by an extremely irate Emma. They both addressed him simultaneously. 

“Summers!” Logan bellowed. 

“Do you know this buffoon?” Emma practically shouted. 

Scott, ever the multi-tasker, immediately took in Logan’s appearance – the sweeping trench coat, the cowboy boots, the cowboy hat. This wasn’t the Logan _he_ knew, but he did know him. However, it was his girlfriend’s question that he answered first. 

“It’s all right, Emma,” he said, placating her. “This isn’t _our_ Logan, but he is Logan. James Howlett,” he said, extending his hand. “How are you?” 

“Been better, kid,” Howlett replied, shaking his hand. 

“James Howlett,” Emma repeated. “Why can’t I read his mind?” 

“The adamantine that laces his skeleton makes him immune to psionic manipulation,” Scott answered before Howlett could. 

Howlett looked at him approvingly. “You remember,” he commented. 

“It’s a trait the Logan of this world doesn’t share,” Scott told him. “That, and I remember saying that I would have to shoot through your eyes and pulverize your brain.” 

Howlett barked out a laugh. “Glad things didn’t turn out that way,” he agreed. 

Emma was still standing there with her arms crossed, looking only mildly placated. 

“Emmeline,” Howlett said to her. “Could you give us a minute?” 

“It’s Emma,” Emma snapped back, but she looked at Scott for confirmation. 

Scott nodded. “We’re fine,” he assured her. 

Emma gave Howlett one more condescending look before sweeping out of the room and closing the door behind her. 

“Emmeline,” Howlett said after Emma had left. “Beautiful as ever, but she seems much more high strung here.” 

“This isn’t a good time,” Scott replied, offering Howlett a seat. They both sat down. “Let’s just say that she’s probably taking out some frustration on you because . . .” Scott gestured vaguely in Howlett’s direction. “Because . . . well . . . you _are_ Logan in a way.” 

Howlett took off the cowboy hat and placed it on the table. Scott couldn’t help but follow the action, thankful that Howlett couldn’t see his eyes behind the visor. His gaze lingered on the Stetson for a moment longer as he pushed down the feelings that the damn hat was bringing to the fore. It had been so long . . . 

“What can I do for you, Howlett?” he said.

* * * * *

Howlett had a lot to fill Scott in on. It was a long, crazy tale but Scott hadn’t expected anything less. The team of multidimensional X-Men that Scott had left behind had somehow managed to save that doomed Earth by teleporting the entire population to an uninhabited world. The mass teleportation had been possible due to the deaths of the one hundred alternate versions of Charles Xavier and the severed heads that Savior had kept. It was a gruesome story and it had come with a cosmic price. Howlett and the X-Men from multiple realities had been tasked with killing ten highly dangerous versions of Charles Xavier that had been created or reawakened across the multiverse thanks to the harm caused by Savior on the Exalted-Earth.

“I guess we all have our problems,” Scott had said when Howlett had wrapped up his tale. Dimension-hopping in order to kill alternate versions of Charles Xavier certainly put his own problems in perspective. “And your current problem is?” 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing _here_ ,” Howlett declared. 

“‘Here’ meaning being in _this_ particular universe,” Scott clarified. 

Howlett leaned forward. “I got separated from my team,” he said. “Like I said I don’t know how, but that’s what happened and I need to find them again.” 

“How did you know _I_ would be here?” Scott questioned. 

Howlett leaned back. “I didn’t,” he replied. “But there’s usually a Scott Summers wherever we land and he’s usually in charge. So I just asked for ya.” 

“You’re in luck,” Scott said, standing up. “I think we can help you.”

* * * * *

Scott brought Howlett to the science labs and introduced him to Dr. Kavita Rao and Danger. There had been murmurings from the science team about finding what they believed to be another ghost box. Scott had forbidden them to conduct any tests on the object, having firsthand experience of how dangerous and unpredictable ghost boxes could be. He’d ordered the science team to keep the artifact under lock and key, but now that Howlett was trapped in their reality, things had changed. The potential ghost box would be Howlett’s best bet of returning to his current universe.

“We don’t know his point of origin,” Dr. Rao informed Scott once she learned of Howlett’s predicament. 

“I’ll leave that to you and the rest of the science team to figure out,” Scott replied. “He needs to get back to his team.” 

“Yes, Scott,” Rao said, an unmistakable gleam of anticipation in her eyes. The scientists always loved a challenge and they hadn’t had one of late. 

“Keep me updated,” Scott said as he left the labs, tapping Howlett on the arm as he passed by the other man. “You’re in good hands, Howlett.” 

“If you say so, Slim,” Howlett replied. 

Scott stopped abruptly at Howlett’s words and turned back to look at the other man. He hadn’t expected that nickname from him, said in that particular tone, with that particular choice of words. For a split second he had mistaken Howlett for . . . 

“I’ll see you later,” Scott said, taking his leave.

* * * * *

Scott didn’t see Howlett for the rest of the day. He hadn’t forgotten about him, but Utopia business and running a mutant army was time consuming. Instead, it was Howlett who found him later that evening as he was overlooking their mutant safe haven.

“One hell of a place you got here, Summers,” Howlett said by way of greeting. 

Scott turned around and took in the sight of Howlett striding towards him – those confident steps, the swagger, the sweeping trench and the damn cowboy hat. It was evening and there was no sun but he was still wearing the cowboy hat. _Typical_ , Scott thought. _His_ Logan (perhaps there was a tad too much emphasis on the possessive pronoun) would have done the same. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to give you the grand tour,” Scott replied, trying to focus on the conversation and _not_ the hat. Howlett wasn’t doing anything on purpose. He could have no idea how the cowboy hat was affecting him, what it _meant_ to Scott in this world. 

“Didn’t need to,” Howlett shrugged, coming to stand beside him on the balcony. “I like explorin’. ‘Sides Rao and Danger filled me in on what’s been happening. Looks like you got problems of your own.” 

“You could say that,” Scott agreed. He glanced at Howlett. “You didn’t run into any trouble?” he asked. “Exploring Utopia on your own?” 

“Got a few strange looks and a few ‘hellos,’” Howlett said. “Folks seemed to be more interested in what I was wearing ‘stead of what I was doing here.” 

“It isn’t the standard Wolverine costume,” Scott said. 

“Wasn’t alone the whole time,” Howlett went on. “Danger accompanied me for a bit and even Emmeline – Emma,” Howlett corrected himself. “Even Emma showed me some of the sights.” 

“That was her way of keeping tabs on you,” Scott said unthinkingly. “It bothers her when she can’t read people.” 

“You two ain’t married here,” Howlett pointed out. 

“Uh, no,” Scott said, surprised that Howlett had mentioned it. “Are we usually married in the worlds that you’ve visited?” 

“No,” Howlett admitted. “But Emmeline – the one on my team – she talks about you a lot. There’s a lot of regret there. Losing you really broke her heart. She wishes she could’ve done things differently.” 

Scott looked out over the twinkling lights of Utopia. “Everyone’s got regrets,” he agreed. “I don’t think you’ll find a shortness of that in any universe you visit.” 

“You’re a man that’s drenched in regret, Summers,” Howlett observed. 

“It’s not regret,” Scott corrected, his voice growing hard. “I’m sorry about how things have turned out, but if I had to do it all again I wouldn’t change a thing. I stand by my actions and my beliefs.” 

“Conviction,” Howlett noted. “A trait you have in spades.” 

The other man sounded thoughtful and Scott turned towards him. “Could you use some conviction, Howlett?” he questioned. 

Howlett shook his head. “I got a pretty good idea of what I need to do,” he answered. 

“Saving the multiverse is a good motivator,” Scott agreed. He smiled. He liked this look on Howlett. It was very sexy in an old West rough-and-tumble kind of way. “You’re taller than he is,” he said softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the brim of the cowboy hat. 

“You miss him.” 

“I do.” 

“I keep hearing about how you two have a volatile relationship,” Howlett said, his tone softening. “How this so-called ‘schism’ was probably inevitable. But people really don’t know, do they? How much you mean to each other.” He stepped closer, blatantly invading Scott’s personal space. Scott didn’t flinch or step away. It was a familiar dance with a different partner. 

“And how do you know?” Scott said instead. “How close we are?” 

“I can smell it on you. Right now. Just standing this near to you is turning you on.” As if to prove his point, Howlett leaned in even more, just stopping a hair’s breath away from kissing him. 

“The Logan I know isn’t this much of a cock tease,” Scott said, practically speaking into the other man’s mouth. 

“No?” Howlett questioned, warm breath ghosting over Scott’s face. “What would he do?” 

“This.” 

No sooner had he spoken than he crushed his mouth against the other man’s. There was nothing tender about that kiss and he was pleased when Howlett responded in kind. Howlett tasted different, smelled different, but there was a familiarity in the firm planes of his body, in the aggressiveness of his kiss. 

“We should take this indoors,” Scott said afterward, slowly disentangling himself from Howlett’s embrace. Talk about a lapse in control. 

“And Emma?” Howlett questioned, eventually relinquishing him. 

“She knows,” Scott answered absently, smoothening out his suddenly rumpled shirt. “Not about _you_ ,” he amended at Howlett’s surprised expression, “but about . . .” He sighed, unable to finish the sentence. “She’ll understand,” he said instead. 

“She really loves you,” Howlett commented as he followed Cyclops inside. 

“She does,” Scott replied.

* * * * *

“Isn’t there someone waiting for you?” Scott asked, as he removed his button-down shirt and proceeded to unbuckle his belt. The pants were next. He was already barefoot.

Howlett was waiting for him on the bed, butt-naked except for the cowboy hat that Scott had requested he keep on. Scott wasn’t purposely stripping slowly, but he was taking the time to admire what was presented to him, cataloguing the differences he could see between this man and the one he knew. 

“Ain’t got nobody waitin’ for me,” Howlett replied, reaching over and pulling out a cigar from his discarded trench. 

“Don’t you dare,” Scott threatened him. “Smoke that _after_ we’ve had sex.” 

Howlett grinned as though he might refuse, but in the end he acquiesced and put the cigar away. It was the most wolfish Scott had seen him and for a moment he reminded Scott so much of Logan that it was actually painful. 

“You always this bossy, Slim?” Howlett asked. 

“Yes,” Scott answered, climbing onto the bed and straddling the other man. Howlett’s hands immediately came to rest on his waist. “And the other you likes to be dominated.” He leaned in. “I think you do too,” he said, dropping his voice as he nuzzled the side of Howlett’s face, enjoying the feel of the stubble burn. 

Howlett’s hands had moved from his waist and were now exploring his chest and back, mapping the trail of scars that they found there. 

“Who do you have waiting for you?” Scott asked again, doing his own exploring on Howlett’s chest. 

“Does there have to be someone waiting for me?” Howlett threw back at him, earning a sharply pinched nipple in response. He hissed at the action and gave Scott a dirty look. 

“You liked that,” Scott said a little smugly, but he bent down and took the nipple in his mouth, laving it with his tongue and sucking the pain away. He heard Howlett’s breathing hitch and when he finally released the nipple, Howlett had grabbed the back of his head and was dragging him back up for a kiss. 

“I know why I’m doing this,” Scott went on as Howlett tried to distract him with his hands and his tongue. “Why are _you_ doing this?” 

“Sex isn’t enough of a reason?” 

Scott sat back, preventing the other man from reaching out for him. “One of the things I learned about Logan early on,” he explained, “when we started sleeping together, is that sex is never the reason.” 

“We’re not the same person,” Howlett reminded him. 

“True,” Scott conceded. “But you _are_ pretending to be him for me tonight. So who am I to you?” 

The silence stretched for so long that Scott was sure he’d finally killed the mood for good. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Then there was a whispered name, said almost reverently. 

“Hercules.” 

There was nothing Scott could say to that revelation so he leaned in again and captured Howlett in a kiss, deep and filled with promise. Tonight was turning out to be about fantasy fulfillment, and if Howlett needed him to be someone else, then he would oblige as much as he were able. 

“The son of Zeus,” Scott murmured as he worked his way down Howlett’s body. “Talk about living up to expectations.” 

He remembered all of his Logan’s trigger spots and he decided to test them out on Howlett. Judging by the responses he was getting from the other man, they weren’t all that different. 

“Looks like you have an unfair advantage here, Slim,” Howlett gasped as Scott ran a hand just below his ribcage, putting pressure on a spot that he probably hadn’t known would turn him on. 

“Looks like it,” Scott agreed, pausing briefly now that he’d reached his goal. 

Howlett was already half hard and without any warning Scott dived right in. He swallowed Howlett whole, relaxing his throat and appreciating the muttered “Fuck,” that he’d managed to pull out of the other man. Keeping his hands on Howlett’s hips, he began to work the other man’s cock, sliding up and down its length until he and Howlett developed an easy rhythm, the other man thrusting into his mouth just enough to push him but not to gag him. 

“Fuck Summers,” Howlett grunted. “I’m gonna come,” he warned. 

It was the hint to stop his actions and Scott let the cock slip from his mouth, ignoring the whine Howlett made at the loss of heat and contact. “Not yet,” Scott told him, moving back up Howlett’s body. “Not like that.” He kissed Howlett quickly before asking, “Can you take me on your back? Or is it an ass up, hands and knees kind of deal?” 

There was a glint in Howlett’s eye when he replied, “You _are_ bossy.” 

“Is that a ‘no’ then?” 

Howlett laughed. “Hell, no,” he replied. “On my back.” 

Scott grinned, reaching over and pulling open the bedside drawer where he knew there were supplies. Howlett was relaxed, legs comfortably spread with Scott settled in between them. Scott coated his fingers with the lube, reaching under Howlett’s body to find his entrance. Howlett shifted at the intrusion of Scott’s invading fingers, but he also reached down and took Scott’s neglected cock in hand. He brought both their leaking cocks together, generating a welcome friction as Scott braced himself over the other man, fingers never stopping their motion. When Howlett jerked suddenly beneath him, Scott knew he’d found the right spot and he ran his fingers over the nub again, earning another muttered, “Fuck.” 

“That’s the general idea,” Scott said. “Are you ready?” 

“I _been_ ready,” Howlett growled back. 

_Well, if_ that _was the case._

Scott withdrew his fingers, ripped open the plastic wrapper of a condom and said, “I’m going to fuck now.” 

“Get to it then,” Howlett challenged, pushing his legs against his chest to give Scott easy access. 

The slide in was smooth as Howlett’s body welcomed the invasion. Scott buried himself to the hilt, hands braced against the headboard over the other man. Howlett had hooked his legs around Scott, effectively locking them together. 

“Come on, Summers,” he growled. 

Scott obliged. Sex with Logan was often rough, the aftereffect of a battle, a mission, or a shouting match. They’d always been good at using sex to deal with the overflow of emotions, channeling that intensity into a physical activity that meant something. They were equally good at using sex to apologize, a tenderness overcoming them at some unexpected moment when both their guards were down. Scott wondered what he was doing now with Howlett as he pounded into the other man. Was he taking out all his frustration at the widening crevasse between Logan and himself? Was he apologizing for that irreconcilable impasse? Was he admitting how much he missed him? 

Howlett took everything that Scott gave him and then some. He met Scott halfway, one hand planted on Scott’s waist for support, the other stroking his cock to Scott’s quick rhythm. Neither of them was going to last, but Scott supposed that stamina wasn’t the name of the game for either of them, not when they had both gone without for so long. He let go of the headboard that had beat a steady rhythm to their actions and grabbed the back of Howlett’s head for a sweeping kiss just before his body constricted, swallowing the cry of Howlett’s release in his mouth as they both came together.

* * * * *

Later as both men lay side-by-side on the bed, sated and content but not quite touching, it was Howlett who broke the peaceful silence.

“Should I go?” he asked. “Is Emma gonna barge in here?” 

“No,” Scott answered languorously, limbs still heavy. He tapped his temple. “Emma knows where we are. And this isn’t our room.” 

“It’s Logan’s room,” Howlett filled in. 

“It’s _your_ room tonight,” Scott told him. “Or however long it takes for Rao and the science team to figure out that ghost box.” 

“They made good progress today,” Howlett said. “Ya got a good team there.” 

“I know,” Scott replied. “Thanks,” he added. 

“They’re gonna try activating the ghost box tomorrow,” Howlett went on. “They just need some juice to crank it up. Said something about callin’ Dazzler.” 

“Alison Blaire,” Scott surmised. “She’s in the city meeting her agent, but she should be back tomorrow.” Scott turned on his side. Curiosity was getting the better of him and he had to ask. “You don’t have to answer this,” he said. “But why is no one waiting for you? What happened to Hercules?” 

Howlett sighed. He looked contemplative and melancholic. “In our world, we were the greatest heroes,” he began. “But it was against the law to love another man. And Zeus had forbidden any of the gods, except himself, from having a relationship with a mortal.” 

_Double whammy_ , Scott thought, but kept it to himself. Logan had always had a rebellious streak in him. It made sense that this version of him would defy both mortal and divine law. 

“But Hercules and I were tired of hiding,” Howlett continued. “When Zeus found out about us, he banished us to Tartarus. We’d been there for four years, fighting the monsters in that cage until Savior pulled me out and brought me to his world.” He turned his head. “That’s how I met you.” 

“Is that where Hercules still is? Tartarus?” 

“Probably. I’m not really sure, but I will find out.” 

Scott nodded at the determination he heard in Howlett’s voice, even though Howlett had already turned away. Hearing the other man talk about his lover in that way had also made him melancholic for some reason. 

“What?” Howlett said after a short silence. 

“What do you mean, ‘What?’” 

“I mean if you get any sadder I’m gonna have to give you a hug. Or is hugging you taboo in this universe?” 

Scott shook his head again. “It’s nothing.” 

“Like hell it is. What’s on your mind, Summers?” 

“It’s not important,” Scott insisted. 

“Try again.” 

Scott secretly admired the tenacity of the other man. That dog-with-a-bone attitude reminded him so much of his own Logan. And if he was going to spill his guts in an embarrassing fashion, then who better to do it to than a multi-verse hopping version of Wolverine? 

“You’ll laugh,” Scott warned him. “But I guess there was a part of me that always thought that Logan and I would somehow end up together in some other universe. Maybe we couldn’t make things work here – there’s just too much fucked up history – but somewhere else, we would be okay.” 

“You mean like soul mates?” 

Scott started. “I don’t know about that,” he began, but stopped because he realized that was _exactly_ what he was talking about. Like it or not, he and Logan were strange soul mates. 

Howlett was looking at him now and there was a softness about his eyes. It spoke of fondness and affection, making Scott wonder how well he had known the Summers in his own universe. 

“I think there’s something to that,” Howlett said, surprising Scott. “Even in my own ‘verse there was something about you I found . . . compelling.” 

“Didn’t you say that I was _nineteen_?” 

“Never said I _acted_ on it, but yeah. There was something there.” Howlett paused. “Who’s to say that things here won’t work out between the two of you?” 

“We’ve never been further apart.” 

“So? Doesn’t mean he still wouldn’t go to hell and back for you.” 

“How would you even know that?” 

“Because that’s what _I_ would do for someone I loved.” 

“That _is_ what you’re going to do,” Scott corrected. “Hercules is a lucky man.” 

Howlett smiled at Scott’s assessment and they fell into another comfortable silence. 

“You plannin’ on stayin’ the night?” Howlett eventually asked. 

The original answer had been ‘no,’ but now Scott found that he didn’t want leave. He sent a quick mental note to Emma who sounded a bit ruffled, but accepted his decision. Emma had always been understanding of his turbulent and complicated relationship with Wolverine. She’d long given up the idea of competing against Logan and accepted that he’d always be an important part of Scott’s life in some way. Her poise was unflappable. Emma’s attitude to Wolverine was one of the reasons Scott loved her. 

“Yes,” Scott said. “Unless you plan on kicking me out.” 

Howlett’s answer was to stretch out an arm, inviting Scott to move closer. Scott accepted the invitation, moving into Howlett’s embrace. _God_ , this felt good, he thought, enjoying the feel of that strong arm wrapping around his back as he placed a hand on the steady rise and fall of Howlett’s chest. 

“Something I been meaning to ask ya, Slim,” Howlett said. He sounded thoughtful. 

“What is it?” Scott murmured, all but ready to doze off. 

“The cowboy hat,” Howlett stated. “Why’d you ask me to keep it on?” 

Scott startled to wakefulness at the question and laughed softly. “That,” he said, feeling himself blush. “It’s a code Logan and I have,” he explained. “He wears it on days when he wants to bottom for me.” 

“You sayin’ you been thinking about banging me since this morning?” 

“Of course not,” Scott retorted, but it was partially true. “I mean, I _did_ think about it but I wouldn’t have done anything. You’re the one who came on to me,” he reminded the other man. 

“Only ‘cos your pheromones were driving me crazy. ‘Sides, I couldn’t actually waste an opportunity to get into your pants. Don’t know when I’ll get another chance.” 

Scott was genuinely laughing now. “We’re hopeless,” he said. 

“Aye, that we are,” Howlett agreed. 

“Good night, Howlett.” 

“Good night, Slim.” 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> The merry mutants belong to Marvel and Fox. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
